The guest house was on fire.
The horses were whinnying in the stable, the cows bellowing somewhere in the dark.
Was Colette in the guest house?
He could barely remember finishing the drive. It was all a blur. He parked. Opened the truck door, and the sound of his boots running on the gravel pathway. The leaping flames, the burning heat, the acrid smoke choking him. The guest house was engulfed in flames. The way his heart dropped to his stomach as he realized the extent of the danger. The heat attacked him as soon as he drew closer. Then he spotted Evan lying in the dirt steps away from the main house.
Fuck.
Shaking his friend by the shoulder and calling his name, he waited until Evan stirred, confirming he was alive. Wasting no time, Marshall moved on to the little house. His gut sank as he worried about what he might find inside. There wasn’t a moment to think or prepare. He needed to find Colette.
Opening the door to the guest house, a wall of heat hit him, stopping him in his tracks. He couldn’t see anything, but there was no way he would abandon her in this death trap. Falling on his hands and knees, he felt around searching for signs of her anywhere. The smoke was so thick, he knew they couldn’t stay in here long. No one would survive here for long. The fire seemed to have somehow stayed isolated to the hallway and the bedrooms, but it was moving fast. Thick clouds suffocated him, making his lungs scream for clean air.
His hands stretched out in front of him, his palm landed on a soft surface he recognized instantly as a human. The size and feel of the person was unmistakable.
Colette.
Without a moment of thought, he felt around to place an arm beneath her knees and scooped her up. Unconscious in his arms, she was so small. All he wanted to do was protect her. Keep her safe.
Marshall had failed.
The sharp crack of a beam falling from the ceiling startled him. He clutched her closer to offer some protection, watching as sparks and flames shot up from the kitchen. Backing away as quickly as he could, he held Colette close as he brought her out into the cool night air. Running as far from the guest house as he could, he gently placed her in the grass and listened for signs of breathing.
Pressing a palm to her face, he put his ear to her mouth, feeling for a breath.
She needed to breathe. His life depended on it.
“Colette. Colette, baby, c’mon, baby, breathe for me,” Marshall begged, his eyes filling with tears. Touching his fingers to the base of her neck, he felt for a pulse. A sob racked his body as the soft thrumming of life pulsed beneath his fingers. It wasn’t strong, but it was there. Cradling her head in his lap, he spokesoftly, waiting for her to awaken. To show signs that it wasn’t over. That he hadn’t come too late.
An almost soundless, pain-filled moan came from her mouth as she turned her head, nuzzling into his stomach. Her hand clutched her side protectively, and he noticed the streaks of dried blood on her hand. Lifting her hand to reveal the wound, Marshall almost lost his mind when he took in the blood soaking the side of her shirt. There was too much of it. Panic clouded his mind as he tried to think of a way to stop the bleeding.
She couldn’t die.
He would never survive it.
Remembering his first aid training, he took off his plaid shirt, folded the fabric, and pressed it with careful pressure to stanch the bleeding. For a moment, his heart stopped, the flames stopped, everything in him focused to hear Colette’s every little breath. The night closed in around them.
A deep sense of powerlessness flooded him.
Then he heard it.
His pulse quickened as the sound of sirens came from off in the distance. A glimmer of hope flickered to life in his chest.
If they didn’t get her to the hospital soon, she wouldn’t make it.
Her skin was deathly pale, gray streaks of soot on her cheeks. All he could do was stroke her hair and beg her to hold on.
“Hold on, baby,” he pleaded. “Help is almost here.”
Colette lay silent in his lap, her breaths shallow and shuddered as she clung to life.
A flurry of emergency vehicles arrived.
He watched, helpless, as the firefighters got to work, and the paramedics assessed Colette and loaded her into the ambulance. The emergency workers refused to tell him she would be okay. Aburst of energy tore through him, as he watched the ambulance drive away. Marshall needed to free up his truck and follow Colette to the hospital. Evan was checked over by another set of emergency workers. The ranch hands carefully and quickly worked to the animals from the trailer and helped settle them for the night. Chip and Lachlan took over, releasing Marshall to get back into his truck as soon as the trailer was unhitched.
Shaking with the worry settled deep in his chest, he strode over to Evan, who was sheltering beneath a blanket and drinking water on the steps of the main house.
The fire was brought under control, but Marshall could tell the guest house was destroyed. He didn’t care. All that mattered was that Colette made it out of this alive.
